


A Trophy for My Beloved

by Anonymous



Category: Rob Roy (1995)
Genre: Chivalry, F/M, Gore, Justice, No Sexual Content, Revenge, Warnings at END of fic, demonstrations of love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:55:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22400674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Rob Roy brings back a gift for Mary after his defeat of Cunningham.
Relationships: Mary MacGregor/Robert Roy MacGregor
Kudos: 2
Collections: Anonymous





	A Trophy for My Beloved

I breathed heavily, sword nearly touching the floor at my side. It was over, at last. The pain of my wounds was only just beginning to re-emerge from where it had gone into hiding out of necessity.  
  
Men were summoned to carry off the body to prepare it for burial, and after proper acknowledgement of my benefactor, I followed them out the door and let them lead the way out of the great house.  
  
As we parted ways at the outer door, I had a sudden inspiration. "Wait," I told the men carrying the body. They waited, no hesitation in obeying my word. Little loyalty they had to their master, in the end; they were glad as I to see the devil spawn cut down. "Place it on the ground." I had the strength for one final task, and I drew my knife from its place on my belt.  
  
Work done, I rose. "I'm taking this to my wife," I stated in explanation to the disturbed faces all around. "I'll need a sack."  
  
  


* * *

  
Mary emerged from our home to greet me as I arrived. Her glad expression swiftly changed to one of distress as she noticed the blood staining my clothing and my bandaged hand.  
  
"You're wounded! Please, come in and sit and let me tend to you." She reached for my uninjured hand.  
  
"In a moment, my love," I said. My weariness could wait just a little longer. "I brought you a present."  
  
She gave me an inquisitive look and I held up the sack, which dripped blood onto the dirt below, and shot her a quick smile. I opened the sack and upended it, letting its filthy contents roll onto the ground. The head landed in such a way that the face was visible to Mary as it lay in the dust, and recognition dawned on her.  
  
A look of astonishment, mixed with a noble rage suffused her handsome features and I bit my lip lightly to hold back a wave of emotion. She has her dignity, that woman, and I wouldn't let her see my sentimentality. Her expression changed to one of triumph and delight and she looked up at me again.  
  
"What shall I do with it?" I asked her.  
  
She contemplated the question several moments, her thumb rising to stroke her lip, before she came to a decision. "Into the privy with it," she stated firmly.

I stooped and grabbed a handful of the hair, carrying the offensive object towards the little hut across the courtyard, Mary accompanying me. I opened the old familiar door and dropped the head through the seat, careful not to befoul the wood with blood, while Mary looked on in great satisfaction.  
  
"There," she said when it was finished. "Such is the proper place for men of his ilk."

I went to the lapping water at the edge of the loch to wash my hands of the remains of my enemy before I allowed Mary to touch me. She embraced me tenderly, and I her.  
  
"Now, come inside, my hero. It's my turn to show my love for you." I followed her into our home, the place of my greatest comfort and rest. The gentle ministrations of Mary's hands on my weary body soon rinsed all the stains of the past weeks from my spirit, and I slept easy that night next to my beloved.

  


* * *

  


If I have ever found myself regretting my actions towards Cunningham in death, which I well know many men would view as dishonourable, those feelings are assuaged every morning when Mary goes outside to visit the privy. Never have I seen such joy in the daily necessity.

  
  


~

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Defiling a corpse


End file.
